The Day the Sunshine Died
by Jambammer
Summary: Vince arrives at the shop with some bad news. Because I, the author, enjoy killing all happiness.


A/N: I needed a break from trying to write Sherlock, and these two decided to be inspirational. This chapter is partially based off of the conversation at the beginning of "Power of the Crimp." First I killed Sherlock, then John, now... well...

Yes, I do kill all happiness.

* * *

It isn't unusual for Vince to wander in late to work. In fact, it has become somewhat of a habit, and not one his friend and co-worker is particularly pleased about. When he finally does come through the door, glittering from the waist down, Howard's waiting with a prepared lecture.

"Come on then, let's have it." Howard stands with a hand on his hip, the other bracing himself against the desk.

Vince looks at him as he takes off his coat, freeing the rest of his glitter outfit, and Howard's too annoyed to notice the distant expression on the younger man's face. "Hmm?"

"Everyday you're late, and everyday another crazy excuse. What is it this time?"

Vince hangs his coat, and looks back at Howard. The lack of smile or any sign of amusement should set off warning bells, but it doesn't. "What do you mean?"

"Well the lego avalanche trapped you did it?"

Vince turns away, walking towards a salon chair near the window. "No."

"No? Pajamas turn into nitrogen, you got stuck on the ceiling of your bedroom? Hmm?" Vince settles into the chair, and keeps his eyes away. "Giant king fisher came into your room and pecked you into the duvet? Got your jumpers caught on a magic hedgehog?" Howard holds up a notebook, but as the younger man is turned away and holding his temple, he doesn't see. "I write them down, you know. What is it, a scarecrow took you to Paris, yeah?"

Vince shrugs, wanting the lecture to end. He has enough on his mind, he's not sure he can deal with much more. He's never been good at multitasking, even in his thoughts. His poor brain cell must be overloading because it feels like his head is throbbing. "I just had a few things to do, that's all."

"That's not funny, that's not even going in the book. That's awful!" He tosses the book away, and picks up his mug that is sitting on the countertop.

"Not everything has to be funny, you know," Vince points out grimly. "Sometimes life can take a serious turn. Colours can fade to black."

Howard had turned to the counter, but the words he hears cause him to turn back around. "Have you got my script?"

"Something bad's happened to me, Howard," he finally admits softly.

Howard doesn't believe his ears. It must be a joke. "Nothing bad happens to you. You're made of sunshine, Vince."

"Bad things can happen to sunshine people, you know."

"No," Howard quickly corrects him, "bad things happen to me, not to you. That's how it works around here." It is just the natural order of things for them, or it's supposed to be anyways.

For a second, Vince wishes that were true, but he doesn't give himself time to feel guilty. He's not even sure how he's feeling at all. "I've got some bad news. I don't even know where to begin."

The seriousness of the situation finally begins to dawn on the older of the two. "Hey, this isn't like you. What… what's the matter? What's up?" He asks, moving closer.

Vince shakes his head, trying to find the right words. "I've felt like there was something wrong for a while, but," he draws a breath, "I went to the doctor's."

Howard closes his eyes. He doesn't want to hear what is coming. "Oh Christ."

Vince nods, and looks to his friend. "He's confirmed the worst."

"Hey," Howard says suddenly, placing his hand on Vince's shoulder. "I'm here for you."

"Do you mean that, Howard?" The younger asks, placing his own hand over Howard's. The childlike naivety still remains in the man's blue eyes, even if it's tainted by a strange sadness that he cannot fully grasp.

"Of course I do. It's me and you all the way. What's the problem? What is it?"

Vince looks away, and takes another deep breath before looking back. "It's bad, Howard. Cancer. He says I've only got a couple months." A strange look flickers across Vince's face, as though he can't quite understand the words coming from his own mouth. Howard's not sure he does either. "Aren't you going to say something like how death's just part of life? How it comes for us all?" Vince asks quietly, playing with his hands in his lap.

For once, Howard Moon is completely speechless. He clears his throat. "Well, yes it does," but it's not supposed to now, especially not for Vince, "and you have to be strong, when death knocks. You can't be afraid, you must face it with every fibre in your being." The younger doesn't look too convinced. He gives Vince's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You must show death that you are ready."

The dark haired man mulls this over for a short moment. "Do you mean I should get a new outfit?" Vince asks, the idea obviously seeming favourable to him.

"I…I meant you need to prepare," Howard tries to explain, "and I promise I'll be there with you through it all."

Vince smiles. "Thanks Howard, I feel a bit better. I need to find something that'll really blow death's mind!"

He leaps out of the chair, and wanders off to the back room. Howard grips his mug handle tightly and swallows the lump in his throat.

He wonders if Naboo will mind if he closes the shop early that day.


End file.
